


Dare You to Move

by Aimz777



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben “Intense Jerkface with a Hidden Heart of Gold” Solo, Blatant P&P references, Coz we all thirrrrsty, Don't worry headmistress - they'll resolve it by the end, Even they don't know, Everyone's 18+, F/M, Finn’s last name is Boyega because the author has no imagination, Kinda fluffy with a pinch of angst, Naley from OTH vibes, No age gap, Rating change in later chapters depending on how swolo/dadam the author decides to go with this..., Rey “Not Taking a Single Second of your Shit” James, Secret Relationship, So will probably definitely change, Unresolved Sexual Tension ABOUND, hand porn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-10 00:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimz777/pseuds/Aimz777
Summary: Rich boy basketball jock Ben Solo is secretly excellent at math.  But when he fakes a failing grade to get back at his rival Poe Dameron through his foster sister - the sweet yet secretly fierce tutorgirl Rey James - he gets more than he bargained for.Can he convince her to tutor him, despite her apparent disdain?  Can they keep it a secret from the others?   And most importantly, can he keep his head together around her long enough to get what he wants, or will he end up being played at his own game?-Inspired by Nathan and Haley from One Tree Hill for our wonderful headmistress Rebecca (LoveOfEscapism)-





	1. F stands for Fine, Right?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/gifts).

> This story is set in high school (initially anyway) but all main characters are over 18 and just about to graduate. No underage shenanigans, please and thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: HUGE thanks to the talented Ash ([Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite)) for the beautiful moodboard!

Tomorrow’s headline of the Star Hill paper is going to read _Arrogant High Schooler Murdered by Team Mate with Better Hair_.

Even as Ben thinks of it, he wonders if that might be too wordy for the front page of the local rag, but ultimately decides it works.

It’s gonna be accurate, at the very least. 

See, when Poe ‘the jackass’ Dameron started dating his on-again, off-again girlfriend last month, Ben didn’t think too much about it. Ben and Bazine were never that serious, so it stung the ego more than the heart and he quickly got over it. 

He didn’t even lose it when his mother offered Poe ‘the asshole’ Dameron the summer internship at her business, Rebel Publishing, instead of himself. Ben might be good at English, but he’s always preferred math, so a career in publishing doesn’t really interest him. Sure, it would have been nice for his mother to think of him first… but hey, that never happens.

But when Poe ‘the dickhead’ Dameron challenges him for the position of captain of the Star Hill High basketball team – the Falcons – after Tuesday’s training session, well, that’s the last straw.

“You’re _what_?!” Ben bellows at Poe, who for his part looks supremely unfazed.

“I’m challenging you for captaincy.”

Ben rears to his full height until he’s towering over Poe, ready to intimidate, his basketball tucked protectively under his arm by his hip.

“On what grounds? We’ve had a flawless season. Haven’t lost a game. You have no right to challenge me.”

A crowd is starting to form around them. Hux and Mitaka are there, but then so is Wexley and that Finn kid and a bunch of other guys that never smile at Ben but always seem to be laughing with Poe. 

Poe, who still doesn’t look the least bit intimidated.

“I have every right,” he says in that smarmy way of his. “You’re a downright misery to play for. You’re irrationally angry, you constantly yell at the younger players and frankly we’re all sick of it.”

A quick glance around shows a few of those nameless guys nodding and murmuring their assent, and Ben has to still himself and clench his fists to prevent from unleashing his rage on them all. That’s exactly what Poe wants. It’d prove his point. So he can’t.

The fucker.

“We should put it to a vote,” the fucker announces. “All those in favor of a change in leadership, raise their hands.”

One by one, Ben feels arms around him rise. He knows, without even lifting his eyes, that there are more up than down.

With a snarl, he throws the basketball he’s holding at Poe’s head, but sadly his rage doesn’t do anything for his aim. It misses, bouncing off a metal locker with a clang and rebounding against the wall until it smacks that Finn kid in the shoulder. Well, at least that’s something.

Ben doesn’t stay for the count. It’s pretty obvious at this point that he’s lost the popularity contest, so he storms out of the locker room to put a stop to this insanity once and for all.

\-----

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

Ben stares across the desk at his uncle, flabbergasted.

"You're the goddamned coach! What do you mean there's nothing you can do?"

Luke just scratches his mangy, old beard and gives him one of those long-suffering looks one might give a small child who keeps asking why the sky is blue.

"We go by democracy when choosing captains, Ben. You know that. It's not my place to overrule the majority."

He should have known. He should have known his bastard of an uncle wouldn't stick up for him. Why would he? He never had before.

Fine. Fuck them all.

"Whatever," he grunts before hightailing it out of his uncle's office, slamming the door as hard as he can behind him and vowing revenge on Poe ‘the fucker’ Dameron if it’s the last thing he does before graduation.

\-----

Ben is still fuming at lunchtime. He glares at Poe from where he sits on the other side of the cafeteria in between furious stabs at his meatloaf.

He’s celebrating. The ass.

“Do you think your parents will let us use their beach house this weekend?” Hux asks from beside him in that bored, languid way of his.

“Probably.”

Dameron - the smarmy jerk - is nauseatingly popular; always has been, ever since third grade. He is always surrounded by a sea of admirers at lunch, and today is no different. Most of the basketball crew is there – to Ben’s extreme annoyance – as well as a few other faces he can’t place. 

“Good. I was hoping to ask Chrissy as well.” 

Poe has an annoying talent for getting along with all walks of life, from the popular and athletic to the quiet and brainy. Somehow he manages to get them all under his spell and singing his praises like he’s god’s fucking gift to humanity.

Which he is _not_.

“Fine.”

In amongst the swarm of Dameron worshippers, one of them catches Ben’s eye. A brunette with bright, hazel eyes and dimples for days. Legs for days, too. And boundless optimism, if her animated expression is anything to go by.

“Maybe you could bring that redhead that keeps dropping things in front of you in Trig,” Hux says, but he isn’t really listening. He’s too busy watching.

He hasn’t seen _her_ before. He knows this, because unlike the other nameless drones surrounding Poe Dameron, he knows he’d remember her. She’s not like the others. 

She’s different.

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Who's the girl?”

Hux looks up curiously, and follows the direction of Ben’s gaze to Poe’s table.

“Oh, her. That’s Dameron's half-sister, or step sister, or something.” 

“Is she now.”

Hux licks the jello off his spoon.

“Yeah, she usually hangs out with the other losers like Boyega in the tutoring center at lunch.”

“Right… the tutoring center…” 

His mind starts ticking.

Poe’s sister, is she? She doesn’t look much like him, but with blended families these days, people don’t have to resemble their siblings to have a familial bond. He watches as Poe ruffles her hair – disgustingly affectionate – and Ben’s eyes narrow, closing in like a hunter marking his prey.

Hux must have heard the note of interest in Ben’s voice, because he screws up his face and waves a dismissive hand.

“Forget it, man. She was on the fundraising committee for the new gymnasium last year. No. Fun. _Whatsoever_.”

But it’s too late. Ben is already too far gone. A plan is forming in his head, a plan that will see him take revenge on Poe Dameron once and for all. 

And the girl…

The girl is the key. 

To everything.

\-----

He sits on his plan for a whole twenty-four hours before he makes his first move.

On Wednesday, Ben fails the first math pop quiz of his life. On purpose.

It’s on algebraic equations, and Ben is _great_ at algebra. He knows everything there is to know about abstractions and formulas and coefficients and notations. He should have scored an A plus – or at the very least a meagre A if he had been fooled by the trick question on polynomials, which he _wouldn’t_ have been – but instead he flunks it on purpose and earns himself an F.

F for _FAIL_.

He’s never seen an F on one of his papers before.

Still, the pain is necessary. It’s step one of his plan. His plan to get back at Poe Dameron.

Because the girl – the girl that’s always hanging around Poe – he found out that’s what she tutors. 

Math.

And sure, he’s great at math. Excellent, actually. But he can pretend to _not_ be great at math if he needs to. If it means finding an _in_. A way to get close to her. 

His plan isn’t fully formed at this stage. What exactly he's going to do with her once he gets her, he's not quite sure.

Make her life a living hell, perhaps. Or something better. Or worse. He doesn't know.

All he knows is the way Poe looks at her; like the sun shines out of her ass, and hell, maybe it does. She does seem like a bubbly little ray of sunshine.

It'd be sickening if it hadn't been so perfect.

Little miss innocent will never see him coming.

\-----

He shows up at the tutoring center the following Monday, failed paper in hand.

She’s the only one there. Rey James; that’s her name. He had discovered it during the copious amounts of digging he’d done last week. It’s not Rey _Dameron_, which he finds interesting.

He knocks on the door to get her attention. To his annoyance, she doesn’t immediately look up, so he knocks again. Louder.

Still nothing.

“_Hello_,” he bristles impatiently. “I'm here for math tutoring.”

“Sure, no problem,” she says, her nose still buried in papers. “What did you say your name was again-”

When she finally looks up and spots him, the recognition is obvious. So is the shock.

“Ben Solo,” he answers, unnecessarily. 

“Oh.”

If his dad had been here, he’d say Ben looked like a stuffed peacock, with his chest puffed out like that and the haughty expression on his face. Ben is more forgiving on himself; after all, _he_ can’t help that he’s superior to everyone.

He _is_ glad his dad isn’t here, though.

For a fraction of a second she eyes him up and down. It’s brief, fleeting, but he catches it.

It doesn’t surprise him. He's used to this reaction from girls. Even if he hadn’t been a six foot two athlete, he’s sure they’d still look at him like that. Money has that effect on people, and everyone knows that the Solos are the richest family in town.

She seems to realize what she’s doing and looks sharply away, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks as she turns back to her papers. Like she’s been busted. Which she has.

He inwardly preens himself just a little, but then-

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

Ben blinks.

“Excuse me?”

“Or - _won't_ help you - would probably be more precise,” she clarifies, and the glower she bestows on him is so unlike the bright, bubbly smile she’d worn only minutes earlier that it gives him whiplash.

“Why not?” he demands to know, not so gently.

“You threw a basketball at my brother’s head last week.” 

Hmm, so she knows about him and Poe. That’s a nuisance.

“He deserved it,” he says with conviction, jutting his chin out high into the air. “He stole my captaincy.”

“Did you ever stop and think maybe _you_ deserved _that_?”

Well, this isn’t going to plan _at all_.

Seriously, the nerve of this girl. How _dare_ she talk to him like this. Doesn’t she know who he is? 

If his whole plan didn’t hinge on her, he’d probably just leave now. 

But it does, so he can’t, and for some strange reason, he finds he doesn’t really want to anyway. He feels oddly drawn to this place. To her.

It's not like he _wants_ her. He doesn’t even like her. But there is something about her that intrigues him, something he can’t quite figure out, and for that reason, she holds his attention – not an easy feat.

Suddenly the prospect of messing with her to get back at Poe is even more appealing. Why though, he’s not quite sure.

It doesn’t matter anyway; there’s work to do before he can get to that. He needs to steer this ship back on course.

“My history with your brother is irrelevant. I need a tutor and I was assigned to you.”

“Then I’ll find you someone else.”

She stands and heads towards him, but diverts to the left to inspect a chart on the wall. A quick glance shows it holds the details of the other volunteer tutors.

Her new positioning affords him another good look at her legs. They really are something else.

“I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

The words sound loud even to his own ears.

“Me?” she asks incredulously, her brow furrowed. “Why?” 

She clearly thinks he’s lost his mind.

Maybe he has.

“I heard you’re the best,” he says simply. It’s true – he has heard that. From quite a few people, actually.

“Well, that’s too bad.” 

“You _will_ help me,” Ben tells her resolutely. “With my current grade I’m at risk of missing out on my college preference.” He holds up his test sheet with the large red F printed on the front, as if she would change her mind if he could prove that he’s failing.

“Not my problem,” she tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He can feel it in the air, in her voice, her posture; the finality. She wants him gone; wants him to leave. It comes as a shock to him. He'd been so sure she'd be one of those do-gooder types with an insufferable need to help everyone.

Maybe not; she certainly doesn’t want to help him…

Too bad she doesn’t know who she’s up against.

He takes a step towards her, then another, until he’s only a handful away. She’s tall for a girl, but he’s _very_ tall, so the height difference is palpable. It usually works for him. Girls tend to like tall guys.

He tilts his head just a little and meets her gaze boldly.

“You should know I always get what I want. I fight dirty and don’t give up easy.”

He speaks softly, and perhaps he’s smirking just a little. It’s a bit of a habit of his, something he does when he’s feeling confident. An involuntary tell.

“_Easily_,” she says, over-enunciating every syllable, and it takes him a second to realize that she's _correcting_ him. “Perhaps you should find someone to tutor you in English as well.”

Holy fuck, she's... _witty_. Brutal, for sure, but undoubtedly clever. And… kinda pretty too. Jesus, is that even possible?

Ben gives her another curious once over, head to toe and back again. He finds himself enthralled.

Either he’s gonna kill her or he’s beginning to like her.

“How's a girl like you related to a guy like Dameron?” he asks, unable to help himself.

She stands just a little straighter.

“He’s my foster brother, so we aren’t actually related. But don't worry; I get that question a lot and I'm well aware of our differences in social status.”

Shit, she thinks he meant it as an insult against _her_. 

“Hey, in my opinion - the less you have in common with that moron, the better.”

She gives him another one of those withering stares, which he laughs off.

That’s new. He doesn’t normally laugh.

“Look,” he says finally, the ghost of a grin still lingering on his lips, “I know you’ll cave eventually. It’s written all over your face. How about you just cut to the chase and give me what I want.”

She squares her shoulders defiantly, a dangerous glint of obstinacy in her eye.

“I’m not giving you _anything_.”

Not waiting another second, the girl swiftly sweeps the papers on her desk into a jumbled mess and crams them into her backpack, and storms out of the tutoring center without so much as a backwards glance.

Ben doesn’t mind though.

In fact, he’s smiling.

“We’ll see,” he tells himself. 

He always loves a challenge.


	2. Two Cents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo is just as persistent as he promised. Maz gives her two cents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This author thanks everyone from the bottom of her heart for their wonderful comments and promises to reply to them all once anon has been turned off in September. I love you all to bits and apologize for the delay, but the night is dark and full of detectives trying to uncover my identity… 
> 
> The threat of discovery looms…
> 
> I've already said too much.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> Edit: Once again, thanks a million, Ash ([Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite)) for the beautiful moodboard!

Much to Rey’s dismay, Ben Solo turns out to be just as persistent as he claims to be.

He seems to be everywhere – at the tutoring center, by her locker, outside her classes – literally everywhere, waiting to pounce, and it gets harder and harder to avoid him. 

She does her best to put him – _and his ridiculous body and annoyingly knee-buckling grin_ \- out of her mind and focus on her studies. Rey’s had her sights set on the Hosnian Institute of Technology for a while now, and luckily they have one of the most generous scholarship programs in the country. It’s needs based, which is great for her since she needs literally _everything_, but she will have to go above and beyond with her schooling and achieve something truly exceptional on her SATs to have even the slightest chance of getting in.

Nose deep in her physics book that night, she barely hears the ding of her phone. In fact, it’s not until it vibrates off her desk and falls into her lap that she notices it.

_One new message._

Probably from Finn.

_Unknown number._

So, not Finn then.

She opens it. And stares.

<_Ready to help me yet_

Well, that mystery had been short lived. There’s no question who _that_ would come from.

Her physics assignment forgotten, she types back a hurried reply.

_How did you get this number?_ >

His answer comes mere seconds later.

<_I know people._

<_So, how about it_

<_Help a guy out_

She scoffs and types out another message.

_I don’t think so_>

Hoping he’d get the hint, she goes to put her phone down but it vibrates in her hand.

<_I get it_

<_You need convincing_

<_Luckily I can be persuasive _

Oh god.

Why is her brain imagining a winky face at the end of that sentence?

She swallows – hard – before typing.

_Doubtful_>

<_Give me a chance to change your mind_

It’s the way he writes, she realises. The way he talks in statements instead of questions. It’s a command, not a request. It always is with him. And when he does ask a question, the answer is implied. Non-negotiable. It’s not a genuine entreaty. 

That’s what bothers her the most, she decides. 

His entitlement. His sheer arrogance. It’s despicable.

She’s seen enough.

_No thanks_>

_I already know everything I need to know about you_>

She stabs at the keys angrily before pressing send, wishing rather than actually believing it would actually shut him up. 

Nothing seems to shut this guy up.

And sure enough…

<_Of course you do_

It’s hard to read sarcasm through a text, but she’s pretty sure she can with this one.

<_You know everything_

<_And you’re never wrong _

_Never_>

She sends back stubbornly, because to admit to anything else would be to open the floodgates – something she is not prepared to do – and with that, she tosses her phone over to the other side of the room. She can’t afford anymore distractions, not this year, not with graduation looming. She quickly finds the passage she’d been on before the rude interruption and continues to read.

_-Certain properties of matter and radiation are found to be quantized. Matter in the atomic and nuclear domain consists of-_

Ding!

Rey jumps at the sound but takes a deep, steadying breath before turning back to the page. 

_-consists of a variety of particles of electronic and-_

Ding!

She’s unable to contain the huff of frustration this time. Her skin itches with the knowledge that he’s replied and yet she remains ignorant of what he’s said. She’s letting him win, letting him have the last word. 

Except she’s not, she reminds herself. She isn’t going to play this game. She is above it, she decides, and throws her phone one last dirty look before resuming her reading once more.

_-electronic and nuclear scale, and combinations of such-_

Ding, ding!

Oh for_ fuck’s _sake!

Abandoning her short-lived holdout, Rey storms over to retrieve her phone, bringing up the new messages immediately.

<_You’re not as nice as people say you are_

<_Maybe you’re not as smart either_

<_Is that why you don't want me around?_

<_Afraid I'll figure it out?_

This guy has balls, she’ll give him that at least. 

She starts typing furiously, ready to refute such a ridiculous accusation by any means necessary, when one last text comes in.

<_Or are you just afraid that you might actually enjoy it?_

She drops her phone like it’s a thousand degrees and it tumbles to the floor. 

_Lies,_ she thinks indignantly. _Horrid, despicable lies from a horrid, despicable man._

There is absolutely _no_ part of her that has enjoyed anything about any of their interactions. No there is not!

In the end, she doesn’t reply. Let him think he’s gotten the last word. She won’t give him what he really wants.

She won’t.

No way.

She also won’t dwell on his final accusation, or the squirming she feels in her belly when she thinks about it.

No way, no how. 

\-----

Things only get worse on Tuesday when she’s working the night shift at Maz’s diner. She’s the only waitress serving and it’s a slow night, so she refills the sugar bowls and chats to Finn who also has an afterschool job there as a dishwasher.

“I know Poe means well,” Finn says as he stacks dishes, “but I think he might have done more harm than good with his whole coup thing against Solo. Now he’s angrier than ever. Yesterday he threw the ball so hard at me in training that it knocked me on my ass.”

Rey frowns.

“Can’t Poe do something? He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with that.”

“What’s he supposed to do; ask Solo to throw the ball softer? Tell the coach – his uncle? I mean, the guy’s smart about it. He’s sneaky. He doesn’t do anything that could get him kicked off the team. He just chips away at you until you lose the will to live.”

“God, he is such an ass,” Rey sighs.

“Tell me about it.”

The phone rings and Rey picks it up by the second chime.

“Kanata’s Café. How may I help you this evening?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a lovely phone voice?”

Her gut clenches instantly. She knows that voice; that deep baritone, like a pool of liquid gold. 

Panicking, she slams the receiver back onto the cradle.

“Who was that?” Finn asks curiously.

“Wrong number,” she replies quickly, before rushing off to bus tables that don’t really need bussing.

\-----

He calls at least once every shift.

_-Working late tonight?-_

_-Changed your mind yet?-_

_ -Are you sure?-_

_-Still ignoring me?-_

It’s beyond frustrating and by Friday, Rey has developed an aversion to the diner’s ringtone.

She’s on with the owner herself – Maz, a spirited, eccentric woman who always seems to know too much about everything – when the phone rings for the first time that night and Rey instinctively makes a dive for it.

“Hello?” she says curtly, her stomach knotting in apprehension. 

Sure enough…

“Your pleasantries are plummeting by the day,” he says, and she can practically hear his sardonic smirk through the phone.

“_What is your problem_?” she exclaims in an angry whisper, turning her back to Maz to keep from being overheard.

“I’m failing math and I need your help,” he replies lazily. “You didn’t forget already, did you? Clearly you need more reminding.”

More reminding? Than he’s already doing? Dear god no!

“I’ll fail math myself before I help you. Now leave me alone!” she hisses and hangs up on him before he can have the last word again.

Turning back to the counter, Rey snatches up a bunch of haphazardly placed menus and sets about straightening them, doing her best to ignore the two large eyes burning a hole in her back. She busies herself with the meaningless task until Maz comes up beside her and taps her on the shoulder.

“What?” Rey asks her, aiming for innocence yet inwardly flinching at how defensive she sounds. 

Maz doesn’t even blink.

“Who’s the boy?”

Rey blanches.

“Oh- oh, _no_... There is no _boy_.” Maz gives the phone a pointed look and Rey feels her cheeks suddenly flood with heat. “I mean, yes, there’s a boy… or, he _is_ a boy- man- whatever… but it’s not what you think. I can’t stand him.”

Maz arches a sly brow.

“Then it’s exactly what I think.”

“No, it’s not,” Rey laughs, or tries to, but it comes out more nervous than humorous. “He wants me to tutor him, but I won’t, because he’s… not a very nice guy.”

Understatement of the freaking year.

“You know this boy?”

Rey thinks of everything Poe has told her. Everything Finn has told her. Their few brief encounters.

“I know enough.”

Her boss’s wide eyes narrow.

“Do you now? Hmm, I wonder...”

Rey sighs. She’s heard that tone before.

“Whatever you want to say, Maz; just say it.”

Maz considers her long and hard before replying.

“You know, I’m a big believer in fate. Destiny. Sometimes, you have to let the universe have its say. Maybe there is a reason this opportunity presented itself to you.”

Rey can’t help but feel that Maz has chosen every word very carefully, like she’s going to great effort to say something without actually _saying_ it. But she doesn’t have time for that. She’s always preferred the honest brutality of math to the flowery deception of English.

And because of that - and her ever-growing frustration - perhaps she doesn’t reply as delicately as she should.

“Yeah, maybe the universe didn’t think my final months of high school would be miserable enough with just SATs to worry about, so they sent me Ben Solo.” Sarcasm drips from her voice as she throws the stack of menus down with a thud, but Maz just looks pensive.

“You say this boy is troubled. Perhaps you can help him, and not just with his grades.”

“He’s not _troubled_; he _is_ the trouble!” she tells Maz exasperatedly. “He’s a spoiled brat who thinks he can have whatever he wants! What am I supposed to do – just give it to him?”

She hates herself for blushing even harder at the mental image her choice of words evokes.

“Not quite,” Maz smiles. “But perhaps you can encourage him to become a better man.”

Rey _does_ laugh this time.

“_A better_\- oh please, Maz; be serious.”

“Oh, I am being serious. Are you telling me there isn't even the slightest chance of it?”

Is there? She’d caught herself wondering the same thing lately when her mental defences were down; in the moments between sleep and waking, when her mind wanders from study fatigue, during the few furtive glimpses she’s stolen of him in their one and only class together.

Part of her – some stupid part that clearly doesn’t have access to the rest of her IQ – hopes that there is. 

And here she’d thought her idealism had died with her parents.

“I don’t- I don’t know... Maybe. But probably not. People don't change, Maz. I spent my whole life waiting for that and look where it got me.”

The look Maz gives her is maddeningly kind. A wrinkled hand covers her own; a touch meant to give comfort. It makes her eyes sting.

“Your parents never changed, it's true,” Maz says with that sage wisdom she oozes effortlessly. “But that doesn't mean no one can.”

Before she can think of a response, Maz disappears into the kitchen, leaving Rey to mull over her words alone. 

Hours later when Rey checks her phone after finishing her shift, there’s only one message waiting for her.

<_Please?_

With a question mark.

It may as well have a sad face tacked on the end of it too. Her brain is certainly imagining one.

Is this… genuine pleading? It looks dangerously like it. Something gnaws at her gut, something she would give _anything_ to ignore.

She bites her lip and buries her face in her hands, because… yeah.

Trouble had been right.

He’s big trouble, Ben Solo. She _knows_ this.

And yet…

Well…

_Shit_.


	3. Shake on it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey presents Ben with her terms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Ash ([Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite)) killed it with this stunning moodboard - THANK YOU <3 

Standing in front of the wrought iron gate, Rey wonders the same thing she’s been wondering all day…

Is she really doing this? Like, _really_?

She hadn’t needed to ask anyone for his address. Everyone in Star Hill knows where the Solos live – even lowly little people like her. After all, it’s the biggest mansion in town.

Once she is buzzed through the intercom at the front gate, Rey makes her way up their massive driveway, all the while flip-flopping between fighting the impulse to make a run for it and wondering whether she has unwittingly had one of those silent aneurysm thingies she’d read about somewhere that’s left her soft in the head.

Her heart pounds harder as the front of the house comes into view. Putting one foot in front of the other, she internally chastizes herself.

Rey James is no coward. She can do this. 

She can. 

She _will_.

Ben is waiting for her on his front porch before she has even finished climbing the steps and the butterflies in her belly ping off the walls.

“Rey?” he says, and this time it actually does sound like a question. Like he hadn’t been expecting to see her. There is uncertainty in his tone – that’s new. So is the look on his face. There’s uncertainty there too, and something else. Anticipation, maybe? Or… hope? She’s not sure - it sounds uncharacteristic for someone like him - but whatever it is makes him look more youthful than usual. 

Boyish, even.

She thinks she might like it.

Okay, moving on quickly now…

“So I’ve been thinking about it,” she starts briskly, digging her hands into the pockets of her faded jeans and cutting right to the chase, “and I’ve decided that I’ll help you-”

“You will?” His large frame leans in eagerly. And… yep, there’s that hint of a victorious smirk just beginning to blossom. 

Time to put a stop to that.

“-on two conditions,” she clarifies bluntly with a pointed look of caution. “Non-negotiable.”

He wets his lips and she doesn’t stare. She _doesn’t_.

“And they are…?”

She takes a deep breath, still hardly able to believe she is actually doing this.

“Firstly; _no one_ can know about this. Us.”

“Us…” he repeats slowly and perhaps her mind is playing tricks on her, but his chocolatey brown eyes seem to deepen from milk to dark as he impales her with his gaze.

“Yes. Us,” she agrees primly, willing her heart to stop racing – the stupid thing. If it didn’t play such an important part in the way her body functions, she’d cut it out and be done with it once and for all. “The tutoring. Our deal. All of it. It stays between you and me.”

He studies her intently for… well… too long if she’s honest, before giving a near imperceptible nod. “And?”

“_And_…” She steels herself to reveal her final condition. “Secondly – and most importantly – you leave Poe and Finn alone.”

His whole demeanor changes instantly at the mention of her friends. 

It’s like she’s awakened a sleeping beast; poked and prodded him with a scorching hot fire iron or something. He doesn’t howl or stomp or rage; he isn’t that overt. In fact, she has the odd impression that he is trying his best to conceal his reaction. And yet… she just knows his mood has turned foul, can feel it before he even speaks.

He tosses his head to the side and lets out a huff of resentment.

“You seem very concerned about those two dickwads.” He keeps his tone light, but his agitation is evident in every other aspect of his being.

Rey still prickles at the derogatory term.

“Don’t call them that,” she retorts hotly, crossing her arms as she glares up at him. “Finn is a nice guy-”

“A nice guy,” Ben cuts in derisively. “Yeah, I bet he is-”

“-and he’s sweet, and sensitive,” she continues, talking over him. “He doesn’t deserve to be treated like crap by a bully like you.”

His eye twitches.

“A bully like me…”

The tension between them pulls taut – a string just waiting to snap. 

Ben’s eyes narrow to slits, and he looks her up and down in a way that makes her shiver. He takes a step forward, invading her personal space in a way she really should dislike if she had literally any sense at all (which perhaps she doesn’t), and she has to tilt her chin higher to meet his eyes.

“And Dameron?” His voice is quietly menacing. “What’s he done to earn your protection? Is he sweet and sensitive too?”

She braces herself against his scorn and takes a breath.

No, Poe isn’t sensitive. He can more than handle himself, she knows that. 

But Poe has always been incredibly good to her. It had stunned her in the beginning, so unused was she to simple kindnesses like the ones he’d showed her. She’s grown to accept them - to expect them even – but she would never stop appreciating them for the rare miracles they are. Poe and his parents were the first to show her benevolence and she can’t forget that. She won’t.

Perhaps that’s the reason it feels immensely important to at least try to put a stop to the animosity between him and Ben. In the end, her reasoning for that comes to her abruptly with a lucidity that surprises her.

“He's family,” she says simply, acknowledging the truth of it to herself.

“Some family,” Ben scoffs indignantly.

“Yeah, well, my real one threw me away like garbage, so maybe I just have really low expectations.”

Her words appear to stun him as much as they do herself. She’s not sure where that came from; she certainly hadn’t intended to reveal so much of herself. Not to him. Not now. She'd just snapped.

She feels her cheeks flush and instantly hates herself more. 

Surprisingly however, a quick glance up at him shows his own sneering contempt has melted away and in its place is something akin to remorse. Or… sympathy.

Ugh, for some reason that’s so much worse.

“I'm sorry. I-”

“Whatever,” she says quickly, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself as if it can somehow shield her from him and his good looks and his sharp words. “Just stay away from Poe and Finn. Do we have a deal?”

He nods solemnly.

Well… good.

Rey is just about to turn to leave – pretty sure she’s done with this shit show for now – when he extends his hand. Towards her.

“Deal.”

He stands there expectantly and her brain falters.

She’s supposed to do something, she realizes. His hand. He wants you to take his hand. He wants to shake on it – their deal.

But that would require touching him. Well, not _him_. Or, actually yes. Him. Or rather, his hand. Touching his hand. His. Touching.

And she swallows, because _damn_; that’s a large hand. 

Rey looks up at him and finds the pity that swam in his eyes earlier has thankfully evaporated. Now they smack of something else.

_Challenge_.

The dare is as clear as if it had been fully articulated. So is his presumption. She can feel it emanating from him, the arrogant tosser. 

He thinks she won’t do it. 

Clearly he doesn’t know her at all. Does he really think she’ll just back down?

Well, he’d be wrong.

Rey James is no coward, so she thrusts out her hand and grasps his own and…

She shouldn’t have done that.

It’s one thing – seeing it. His hand. 

Seeing it tells her several things; that it’s large and steady and… frankly way too nice to look at, considering it’s just a hand. And did she mention it’s large? Because, yeah- that really stands out. And isn’t there some saying about guys with big hands - some saying she really shouldn’t be thinking about right now?

Well, yes, it’s one thing to see it, and quite another to _touch_ it; to _feel_ it in all its glory.

Because actually feeling it tells her new things. Like how strong it is. The skin draped across each digit might be soft and smooth, but it’s sheathing pure muscle – hard and solid and powerful. He’s not wielding any of that strength against _her_, but she can still sense it; feel it in the flex of his fingers on her own skin. 

This is a hand that could protect. That could make someone feel safe.

It’s an awful lot to read into a hand… and yet, she just knows it’s all true.

It’s warm, too – his hand. Not in a gross, sweaty kind of way, but rather something that gives off a comforting, lively energy that screams of male virility in a way that Rey never _ever_ thinks of. 

Except now, apparently.

That hand of his – sinful, she thinks, positively debauched – holds onto hers and doesn’t let go and there is stroking happening now - actual rubbing, massaging - and oh _god_, did that gasp fall from his mouth or hers?

She thinks maybe his. She hopes so, anyway. 

She has reason to suspect it. His lips - so lush for a man’s it's nearly unforgivable - are parted just a touch, and dear lord, they couldn't possibly feel as soft as they look, could they?

Oh holy hell; now she’s thinking about them too – his lips - and she really shouldn’t be. She shouldn’t even be thinking about his hands. His large, strong, comforting-

Rey yanks her own hand– which suddenly feels tiny – out of his before her mind can travel any further down that particular forbidden path; before it starts drawing dangerous resemblances between the hand and its owner.

Wiping her palm on the denim of her jeans, she gives him a final curt nod before turning on her heel. She is dimly aware that they haven’t made plans for their first study session, but she really can’t worry about that now. 

No, right now she needs distance. Space. From him. Put a universe between them and he’ll still be too close.

She needs to think, regain some sense of rationality, and she can’t do that here. Not with him so close. Him and his hands and his lips and his… _everything_.

Out of pure vanity, Rey forces herself to walk calmly back down the driveway until she’s sure she is out of his line of sight before running the rest of the way.

Why she never tried out for track is beyond her. 

Let it be known; Rey James might be great at math, but she is an _excellent _runner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it also be known; I love you all immensely <3


End file.
